


The Crown Prince

by This_is_my_toenail_collection



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Absolute gremlin child Lucio, Adventure, And Loosely Described, Backstory, Bullying, Cause OC is Unnamed, Character Study, Childhood Friends, Cute Kids, Fluff, Hostility Between People's, I give you homework in the notes, If You Squint - Freeform, In a way, Kid Fic, Light-Hearted, Lucio (The Arcana) Is A Little Shit, M/M, Oh this one's gonna have a lot of tags, Original Kingdom, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reader-Insert, Royalty, Running Away, Sneaking Around, Tagging as I go, Tags May Change, War, Young Lucio, at first, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:15:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27552925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/This_is_my_toenail_collection/pseuds/This_is_my_toenail_collection
Summary: ~A kingdom, unlike any Monty could have ever imagined, and only a few hours walk from where he’d toiled and worked and dreamed of kingdoms all his life~So many stories can fit into one lifetime, many intertwining but some completely isolated. Little is known about where the Count started his journey, but follow through the years and you will meet a much younger soul. Follow a seven year old boy as he explores the terrifying and foreign kingdom on the other side of the steppe, and grows to dream of life beyond his village.Just don't tell mama where he's gone.
Relationships: Lucio (The Arcana)/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 35
Kudos: 6





	1. A Birthday to Remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is set completely isolated from the main game, and many years before it's events. An exploration of the life Lucio led as a young man growing up in the south, as well as speculation to what nurtured his desire to seek more than the south could give him.
> 
> And also relationships, because I'm predictable 😘

_Scratch scratch scratch_

Fifteen.

_Scratch scratch scratch_

Sixteen.

_Scratch scratch scratch_

Seventeen.

Monty scratched the dirt and grime off the metal tools with a frown. A scowl too bitter for a boy recently seven years old to wear. He hated chores, he hated that he had to do _everything_ the hard way. Jæger chirps a warning as the child stops to hang his head, arms tired from the constant scraping. He sits on the ground with his legs folded, a basin of frigid water and a scullery pad made of boar hair the only tools to aid him. He only has to do twenty, he’s on seventeen and he only has to do twenty. He repeats it to himself as he keeps his head hung so his neck can rest from looking down awkwardly at the tools. 

Jæger squeaks a slightly more irritated warning from his perch over Monty’s shoulder and the boy continues his scratching, not raising his head to look at the tools but going entirely by feel. 

_Scratch scratch scratch_

Eighteen.

_Scratch Scratch Scratch_

Nineteen. One more! His heart flips and his hands move too fast, excited to be finished. Excited to get on with the rest of his day. 

_Scratch Scra–_

“Montag” The sudden call makes him jump, he twists around quickly to face his papa. 

“ _What_?” His surprise makes the response come out with a bit too mouthy. He hopes papa will let it slide, in view of the occasion. Jæger flaps his broad wings a few times; maybe in greeting, maybe to show he’s doing his job.

Babysitting.

“Attitude,” Lutz says simply and Monty sighs in relief, no lecture for now. “Why aren’t you looking at your work?” He continues, gesturing at Montag’s apparent interest in his own lap as he cleans the tools he was given. Monty should’ve known better than to expect to get off that easily, all papa ever did was give him long boring lectures. At least mama would just smack him when he slacked off and be done with it.

“I don’t need to look, I can feel the dirt fine” He defended, maybe he could still wiggle his way out of the thick of it.

“No you can’t, look at these” Lutz picks up tool after tool from the supposedly clean pile, pointing at the obvious remaining dirt and rust. Flaws in Monty’s work that definitely hadn’t been there when he last looked. All the while he kept talking. “All the other kids know how to keep their tools clean,” “Do you not have eyes? Look at all this” “you’re too stupid to see what’s right in front of you?” He went on and on. Monty grimaced but held his tongue, trying very hard not to roll his eyes. ‘ _I’m not stupid’ ‘you’re just an old man who thinks I can’t do anything’ ‘If you’re so good at it do it yourself’._

Tired old jerk, what’s his problem? So what of Monty can’t clean some dumb tools? That’s not his job, he’s gonna be a hunter and a conqueror like Mama.

“ _Try_ this time and then you can go play with your friends” Lutz promised finally, shaking his head in defeat as he walks away. Jæger settles back down on his perch, eagle eyes turning back to Monty, watching his every movement. Creepy bird.

Monty couldn’t believe this, fuming silently he put all the tools back in the unfinished pile. Not good enough...whatever, he’d be there until they were perfect _apparently_. It’s not like he could sneak off with that bird watching him. His friends already finished their chores but they probably didn’t have as many. He couldn’t believe he’d have to spend his whole birthday cleaning his stupid disgusting tools.

That wasn’t even the worst part, the worst part was that even after they were clean he’d have to clean them again tomorrow morning. And the next day, and the next day forever and ever into infinity. He’d have to do _all_ his horrible chores every day cause they were never really done. What’s the point of that? There’s gotta be a better way.

0

Monty never did finish those tools. 

After a few more tries his Pa decided he could finish them tomorrow. Maybe he felt bad about making the kid work so hard on his birthday, even though they were supposed to be simple morning chores so he could have the rest of the day for himself. He told Monty it was only because it was a special occasion and only if Monty promised to get up before sunrise to finish them and his other chores the next morning. 

Of course Monty took that deal, he’d just find a way to guilt Papa out of making him do it tomorrow too. Lutz gave Monty a pat on the head and told him to go find his friends, telling him one more thing before he ran off.

“Don’t tell your mother”

With that Monty ran off to enjoy his birthday.

Him and his friends played king of the treehouse, Monty being king of course cause it was his birthday, with all of his friends as his loyal knights sent to fight in his honor. Then they played beetles and bats; Four kids played as clever and sneaky beetles and they had to outwit and outrun the four stupid clumsy bats trying to catch them. When night fell there was a big bonfire with dancing and chanting and they sacrificed a stag over the wyrm pit. It was awesome and super bloody and Monty got to stay up way past his bedtime.

Though eventually, all good things must come to an end.

Monty laid awake that night and thought about how awesome his birthday was, how everyone was having so much fun and it was all about him. He wished he got more presents but there was always next year.

Next year.

Birthdays came every year just as chores came every day, and he remembered with a groan that he had to wake up before dawn the next day to finish his.

What would even be the point? The tools would just be dirty again the next day. He would still have to clean and gather and prepare with everyone else, even though he wasn’t like everyone else. He had to do dumb leader training and stupid lessons that none of the other kids had to do, so why did he have to do all the normal clan-stuff too? Why couldn’t he have like...time off? A vacation maybe? He’d heard about vacations when people in the clan made fun of city people, but Monty thought they sounded nice. That’s what he needed, he rolled over in his bed of furs as he thought, a vacation. A vacation from the chores and the leader-stuff and _bugs!_ Oh how Monty hated bugs, and they were everywhere!

Jumping up he quickly slowed himself, careful not to squeak the floorboards and alert his mama sleeping on the other side of the room. She shifts slightly but doesn’t move beyond that. Emboldened, Monty grabs his good belt and pouches and starts packing.

His little stone knife and wooden sword in case he ran into any of those evil city soldiers papa told him about. His extra warm fur cloak cause it’s cold out at night, even though it’s an ugly mousy brown color. What else…?

Mama shifts again and Monty gets a truly suicidal idea.

He creeps so slowly one would almost think he actually learned something from all his mama’s tracking lessons. It’s hardly his first time sneaking out of bed and he’s mapped the weak spots in the ancient wooden floorboards in his head like a professional cartographer. Each step of his tiny feet is expertly placed and not a splinter in the framework of the house so much as trembles. Slowly he stalks up to his mother's sleeping form, slowly he reaches a small hand out to brush the blanket aside, slowly and almost painfully he unclips the beetle-shaped bone broach from one of the sashes holding her furs together.

He practically falls away in relief as he retreats from her sleeping form, a snort and an agitated roll, her only acknowledgment of the theft. Monty clips the crest to his cloak, now wherever he decides to vacation people will know at a glance that he’s from the scourge and he’s not to be trifled with.

Double-checking his belongings he makes for the door, knowing trying to use a window will let in a draft. A dead giveaway. 

He slips quickly out through the house’s threshold and closes the door ever so quietly behind him. He stands in shock for a moment, staring at the dark, empty village. The snow looks so strange in the dead of night, still white but swathed in the surrounding darkness. Glimmering slightly where the moon’s light breaches the trees.

He’s almost elated but of course his fun must be spoiled. This time it’s by a familiar dark shape, swooping from the roof of the house and landing on the fencepost. The eagle’s bright yellow eyes seem to glow in the unfamiliar dark of midnight.

Here it comes, the screech to wake the dead. The bird would make such a ruckus half the village would wake up to witness Monty’s punishment. That or the bird would grab him with those nasty talons and bodily drag the boy back inside. Monty waited, not breathing, not taking his eyes off the eagle.

Yet the bird did nothing.

Then after seemingly hours of their staredown the eagle spread his great feathery wings and took off into the sky, leaving a very confused young boy in his wake. Monty let out the breath he was holding and took a minute to understand what just happened.

He did it.

So many times he'd tried but never had he actually gotten away with it!

He takes a step, it crunches in the snow. He takes another and feels his steps become quicker. His parents don’t know where he is and Jæger didn’t rat him out, he’s free to do whatever he wants. Suddenly his body is light enough to match his soul and he’s running, sprinting through the village and into the woods where no one would find him if he didn’t want them to. He doesn’t care about the beasts that come out at night or the city soldiers who would kill a scourge tribesman on sight, all he cares about is the fact that he’s flying and he doesn’t have to do his chores in the morning.

He runs for a long time, but eventually even young boys run out of energy.

So he walks, on and on into the night through the trees until he hits the steppe. He considers turning back, but his feet don’t hurt because of the adrenaline and he wants to go farther. He wants to go farther than he’s ever been allowed, farther than Jæger could fly to find him, farther than his mother's voice can call him. He’s scared but that spurs him on as he keeps walking, the thrill of disobeying and going somewhere mama and papa never wanted him to go is so thrilling he’s practically giggling.

He doesn’t stop when he sees villages, he doesn’t stop when his eyes droop a bit from being up so long past his bedtime. He _only_ stops when the sun starts to rise and the snow gives way to patches of grass and thistles. He stops when he finds what he’s looking for, something new and exciting. The winds here are much stronger since the land is so flat, but the wind is warmer and it smells sweet, like water and clover. The sun rises with few clouds to break its rays and just beyond the grassy hill Monty can see a place unlike any he’d seen before.

A village with large gates and many many miles of land, tall buildings of stone and banners of rich colors.

A kingdom, unlike any Monty could have ever imagined, and only a few hours walk from where he’d toiled and worked and dreamed of kingdoms all his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this first chapter!
> 
> Here's your homework, comment and tell me why do you think Jæger let Monty go?


	2. Hunting Lessons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saw some interesting guesses in the comments as to why jæger let Monty go. I wasn't going to answer this question I just wanted to stir up some speculation, but it's because Monty was wearing the pin, Jæger thought he had Morga's permission.
> 
> Thanks for your comments! I'm excited for this fic and I'm glad you're here.

Strange it was for the young prince to see his father. Even stranger for him to venture outside the walls of his palace home.

Yet today was a strange day indeed, a very special occasion the entire kingdom would celebrate. Every year the king would throw the most spectacular celebration to commemorate the birthday of his firstborn son.

Even when the child was an infant the king Asphodel would call every relative and courtier to show off his boy, bragging long into the night about how much he adored the young prince and how perfect such a boy was. He’d address the public almost daily to update them on how the child had taken his first steps that day or insulted his first scullery maid. 

Though he loved his son so much he still kept his distance as the prince grew, leaving the boy to be raised by the skilled professionals that raised many a royal heir. It was that which made it so strange for the young prince to see his father. 

The child was still young, too young to know much outside of his own importance. He followed his father on horseback to the outskirts of the kingdom for the first time in his short life. First time outside of the kingdom, first time outside of the palace stronghold at all. He followed his father’s horse on his pony, one he learned to ride when he was even younger.

The steppe was HUGE! Much larger than any ballroom or stretch of garden. It went for as far as the young boy’s wide eyes could see in every direction. The green land turned to white if he looked far enough into the distance, but they’d never ride so far from the kingdom. No king had ever journeyed so far from his land.

When they stopped it was mid-morning, the sun streaked across the grassy plains. The wind was a bit chilly but the prince reveled in it, it ruffled his hair almost causing the crown to slip from his small head. Yet he was practiced enough to keep it on.

“Father” the boy was a bit stiff in his address as he stepped from the ponies saddle with practiced grace. He’d hardly even met this man who looked at him with such affection, an odd birthday indeed. “Why’d you bring me here?”

“To teach you to hunt” The king responded proudly, but the prince glanced into his saddlebags, perplexed. They’d brought things to eat and things for play...nothing for hunting.

“What are we hunting?” The boy asked, stepping nervously closer at his father's beckoning hand.

“Nothing we’ll catch today, God willing” The stranger laughed, “Today I tell you what I hunt, what you must one day hunt as King.” The prince puffed up a bit, liking the idea of being king. Knowing it was what he was meant to be one day, all his schooling and practically every moment of his day dedicated to learning how to be a good one. “I tell you this, and I tell you why” The king’s voice gets a note more serious as he continues, a touch more sinister.

“Yessir,” The boy follows his father as he starts walking again, eager to hear a story. He loved stories.

“Yes sir” His father corrects him, “Remember the importance of annunciation in every instance, my boy, you can not lead if your citizens can not understand.”

“Yes sir” 

“Alright where was I? Ah yes hunting, my boy we are out here hunting bugs.” This makes the prince stop short again.

“Bugs?” He repeats in disgust, his father turns slightly, a flash of anger crossing his features at the undignified tone.

“Obviously your caretakers are too lax with you if you let yourself slip so flagrantly” He scolds softly, the prince seals his lips and stares at the ground. 

He hardly knew his father and already he’d made a poor impression. Still staring at the ground in shame the boy nudges the clumps of grass he finds there with his feet. He overturns a small log and a nest of beetles upsets, skittering over the damp wood and trying to find cover. His father clears his throat to get his sons attention once more.

“Not those bugs” He says harshly, turning all the way around and stepping heavily on the log, crushing the shelled insects under his boot with one sharp stomp. “The bugs we hunt are not the spindly spiders hiding in the kitchen bins or the hoppers that chirp at night to keep you awake, these bugs are far more dangerous.” 

He points into the frozen distance, much farther than the kingdom’s lands can control. The wild steppe, and beyond it the demon’s forest. 

The Scourgelands.

“The bugs we are at war with, my son, are larger than any man and more deadly than rabid beasts. They consume anything they encounter leaving only bones in their wake.” A shiver runs up the boys back at the thought of such creatures. “They have no laws, no order like we humans. They will destroy a kingdom faster than a horde of locusts, so we must squash them wherever we see them” The king finishes his speech. 

The prince finds himself a bit shaken, how can anyone sleep at night with such destructive creatures roaming about? Suddenly he can’t help but feel eyes on him.

“Have...have you ever seen one?” he asks in thinly hidden awe. 

“Never in person, no. They’ve stayed well on their side of the steppe since my father drove them from our warmer lands.” He responds proudly.

“But what do they look like?” This question is more excited than frightened, and the king kneels to make sure his son really understands the answer.

“That is their most devious trait, you see they’re said to look just like men” the prince is quiet for a minute, absorbing the information.

“But then anyone you meet could be one?” This notion seems to frighten him the most. The King smiles reassuringly and stands back up, patting his son’s gilded head as he does.

“No no, They look like men but they hardly pass for them. These creatures speak no language and show no civilized behavior whatsoever. They’re just barbarians.” He assured. Upon seeing his son’s less than comforted expression he sighed, “When your grandfather cast the creatures away, Cernunnos was with him. He marked the barbarian’s faces with burns, so we could never be fooled again” 

“Burns?” The prince asked, slightly less scared.

“Yes, to keep them in shame, and warn us if they return”

0

There was a great celebration, but the guest of honor never arrived. The prince didn’t even miss the attention and festivities, because he spent the day out on the steppe. He spent the day talking and learning with his father.

He’d never forget it.

He asked many questions about the terrifying barbarians, in return his father told him many stories and legends of the wars that had waged to keep them at bay. In all of them the Kingdom of Gaoth stood strong and prosperous, the boy had never been prouder to be prince of such a homeland.

Finally, when the sun had reached its highest point in the sky and royal duties could not be shirked any longer, it was time for them to return. Yet still the boy felt eyes on him, and those eyes followed them all the way home.

Following, just a few hills behind the lazy trotting of the horses, a young boy about the prince's age kept low to the ground. He’d been watching the strange people with crazy purple clothing all day while they murmured to each other in the distance.

Montag had no idea how to approach the terrifyingly wonderful kingdom, following the strange man and boy might be his only insight on how to get in.

His stomach growled at him, He’d missed breakfast and only slept for a few hours in the grass, Though he had to admit it was one of the best naps he’d ever had. It was so nice to be somewhere the air was warm enough to sleep outside.

He follows the strangers all the way back to the kingdom, shrinking at how much bigger the towering stone walls are up close. 

There are heavily armed guards at the gate and they let the two strangers pass without incident, but if papa’s stories had taught him anything it was that those guards wouldn’t be nearly as nice to Monty. He grasps the beetle crest he stole from his ma, should he take it off?

The thought makes him sad, he loves being part of the scourge. They were the meanest, toughest tribe in the world! They were ruthless and cunning and they took what they wanted, leaving nothing but bones in their wake. He shouldn’t have to hide where he was from, even if it might get him into a fight. 

He leaves the crest pinned proudly to his cloak, for courage.

If he couldn’t get past the guards he’d have to find another way in, the walls looked menacing but a beetle could squeeze through even the smallest of cracks. Careful to avoid the armed men’s line of sight he stalked around the heavy brick barrier. A ways west of what he assumed to be the western gate, he found a chink in the armor, a crack in the facade. 

He found a place of wall that had been damaged by too many rains and winters. The stone crumbled under his hand and opened a fissure close to the ground, just big enough for a seven year old boy to squeeze through if he held his breath.

It was boarded up from the other side, but a well-placed rock solved that problem quickly.

Wiggling through the crack Monty couldn’t help but be very very proud of himself. He must certainly be the stealthiest child to ever live, probably some kind of prodigy. At least good enough to stand against other great steathers of the world. He’d snuck out of his house right under his mamas nose, discreetly followed two unsuspecting strangers over a large area of almost flat land, and wriggled his way into a very heavily guarded fortress kingdom undetected. 

He was very proud indeed.

So big he was for his leather britches that he looked smuggly on the backyard he found himself in on the other side of the aforementioned wall. He surveyed his next challenge with his hands on his hips, ready to draw his trusty wooden sword at the first sign of trouble.

That's when he got the idea.

The most dangerous but thrilling idea came to him as he took in everything he could from the kingdom, there was one more wall to pass. Corrupting the humble skyline was a structure so incredible he practically jumped up and down in excitement.

A real, genuine kings castle. Huge and made of stone bricks and covered in flags, guards at the gates and only very expensive looking carriages permitted passage. That’s where Monty wanted to go, that was his next challenge he was sure of it.

Among the people he didn’t have to be so sneaky, no one looked twice at his odd fur clothing or lack of parental supervision. Even those who noticed the beetle shaped crest either didn’t recognize it or didn’t care, he couldn’t tell which.

Everyone here wore much thinner hides, some even wore woven fibers. The colors were also interesting, treated with dyes and tints. His mama would say colorful clothing is harder to stalk in, but the dazzling arrays were like looking at music to the young boy.

People, oh the sheer number of people, they crowded the streets and halked their wares. There was shouting and singing and laughing and so so many people. Just one street housed more people than were in Monty’s entire village. His head spun with over exposure, and that was before he even made it to the vendors district.

Everything Monty had ever thought to want was right there on display. Tools and weapons you didn’t have to craft, delicious meat cooking that you didn’t have to hunt, clothes and hides you didn’t have to treat or tan. 

Many things were there that he couldn’t have thought to want too, completely useless trinkets that just sat around looking pretty, herbs and powders claiming to have magic properties, one woman sat on the ground next to a grand fountain wearing nothing on her top half except a huge albino python that coiled around her without a care.

Where can he get one of those??

He made mental notes of all of it, promising to come back after he’d seen what’s in the castle. Walking through that market without taking anything was like walking through the cave of wonders, but he was determined not to be distracted.

Until the cape.

It hung in the back of a very well decorated shop, it was huge and it looked so warm. The best part of it by far was the color, a shocking crimson red unlike anything Monty had seen. Only the most poisonous of berries or thorniest of flowers carried such a pigment back home, yet here it was somehow grafted into the biggest most wonderful cape he’d ever seen in his life.

He needed it. 

Walking up to the booth he slammed his tiny hand on a table of pearl jewelry to get the vendors attention.

“I need that cape!” he pointed at it desperately, the vendor gave him a once-over before speaking.

“You got coin?” Monty stared blankly and the vendor rolled their eyes. “Money?”

What’s money?

“No” Monty answers quietly, the vendor turns away without even telling the kid to get out. They had important customers to attend to.

Kicking the dirt Monty stomps out of the booth, he never gets what he wants!

Shaking his head he moves on, there’s still a castle to storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've been introduced to our other protagonist now, huzzah!
> 
> Today's assignment, leave a comment and tell me what you think of this horrible threat the king warned our young prince about?


	3. Storming the Castle

The castle wall was much better maintained than the outer one, no matter how Monty poked and prodded it there was simply no way through. In a particularly foolish bit of stubbornness, he tried to just force it to crack, he had to wrap his hand to make his knuckles stop bleeding.

After that he tried to scale it, the wall wasn’t as tall as the outer one after all. Though Monty is still a small boy and climbing a wall is very different from climbing a tree, so all he ended up showing for it was a bruised tailbone.

Finally he said fudge it, cause he’s not allowed to swear yet.

The scourge is known for being sneaky, but also being ruthless and taking what they want. If he couldn’t sneak in then he’d show them not to mess with Montag Morgason.

Squaring his shoulders and drawing his sword he walked right up to the guards and demanded they let him in.

0

After the trip the King went back to his diplomatic duties, the celebrations still rang through the city but the prince wasn’t permitted to leave the castle walls and partake. Of course, there were celebrations within the walls as well, but he wasn’t much in the mood for those either.

He’d hoped the hunting trip would spur a change, perhaps a more close relationship between his father and himself, but alas everything returned to how it had been before the moment father was with the diplomats. 

He shouldn’t be so sad, it’s his birthday after all.

He didn’t have schooling for the day as a courtesy, but it wasn’t as if there was anything else to do in the boring old castle. His little sister was no fun because she was only four, he’d already explored every corner of the grounds, and his nursemaid was always too busy to play with him.

What he wouldn’t give for a friend his age.

He decided to do what he did most days when he had downtime, he climbed the cherry tree in the garden and peered over the wall to watch the people. 

There were Mrs. and Dame Harrold, They were just commoners before Dame Harrold was knighted, then they moved uptown to where he could watch them go about their day. Then of course there are the Bulson twins, the prince had considered being friends with them but they never wanted to chat with a kid sitting in a cherry tree on the other side of a wall. He hoped he wouldn’t have to see the poor O’grant kid...

Oh, that was odd.

Normally people-watching is predictable, but this is a sight the prince never thought he’d see. A boy probably a bit younger than himself tried furiously and fruitlessly to aggrieve the guards standing post at the gate, the guards in question held the child at bay with their sheathed blades and amused chuckles.

The prince watched for quite a while as the spirited lad dressed in odd furs charged again and again only to be pushed back uneventfully by the guards. It was hard to make out exactly what the boy was shouting so angrily, but his face was red and he waved his toy sword with a vengeance.

Jumping down from the tree the prince began moving back inside, he had a party to attend after all, but he kept stopping time and time again. Stopping to think of that boy trying tooth and nail to take down two armed guards with what was essentially a stick. A feisty commoner like that might be able to solve his O’grant issue.

Besides...the prince was terribly lonely.

Mind made up, he swiveled slowly on his heel, heading towards the gate. He had to hold in his laughter as the indignant screeching of the angry boy grew louder and clearer with every step he took.

“you can’t maKE ME LEAVE! I WILL GET IN! I WILL I WILL!!! I’LL KILL YOU STINKY GUARDS!!!”

The harsh scream and heavy accent made the words impossible for the prince to understand, but it was funny all the same.

“That’s quite enough” The prince interjects, using his interjecting voice. Every prince needs a good interjecting voice, otherwise how would he ever break up a conflict or address a panicking crowd? As predicted the kid goes quiet where he was flailing in the outstretched hands of one of the guards.

“Your highness" the guards greet in cert unison. The boy looks from the guards to the prince like someone trying to read the old gaelic tomes in the library.

"Put this boy down and grant him passage" the prince commands, the guards freeze for a moment in confusion. They look at the rat of a boy they caught and try to rationalize why on earth their prince would want him to come in. The heir in question stands patiently until the guards remember themselves. Wordlessly they put the feisty kid down and step aside.

The kid takes an experimental step over the gates threshold, then steps back. Finding no resistance he gleefully hops in and out of the gate with sheer abandon. 

"Hah! I told you stupid guards, I said I'd get in! You–oof!" His taunts stop dead as he trips over one of the guards outstretched sword-sheaths. Dusting himself off he continues through the gate, thumbing his nose at them in a last taunting gesture. 

He walks right past the prince, seemingly unconcerned with his presence.

"Ahem" the prince coughs to get the boy's attention and he spins where he was walking.

"Oh yeah, who are you?" The weird kid asks a bit harshly, not the response the prince expected and definitely not the one he was used to. He calculates his response.

"I'm the crown prince of the land on which you stand," he says evenly, the kid stares blankly.

"Yeah but who are you?" He asks again, the prince is a bit thrown by the lack of reaction but it doesn't show on his face. "Ooh what's that shiny thing on your head?" His pupils blow wide as he notices the prince's golden crown perched atop his hair.

"This is my crown," he responds a bit guarded, "and I already told you I'm the prince"

Monty had no idea what a crown was or a prince for that matter, but he knew that very shiny very pretty hat had to be a fair trade for a cool red cape, but how to get it? He'd have to stall to come up with something.

"Yeah but what's your name?" He tried asking the prince, this question finally cracked the facade and confusion finally twisted the boy's features.

"My name?" He asked hesitantly, was he hard of hearing?

"Yeah"

"Hmm" 

"What you forget or something?"

The prince was having an unusually hard time answering that question, usually everyone called him the prince or your highness or boy. His name? What would a commoner do with his name? Why does he need it?

"You will call me your highness and nothing else" he decided finally, slightly embarrassed at taking so long to consider it. The boy rolled his eyes and groaned, the prince actually startled at the action. Never had someone so blatantly uncultured spoken to him.

"I don't wanna call you some title, how 'bout I call you prince?" He suggested, the prince thought over the unorthodox request. Did...did friends call each other by names?

"Uh...ok sure" oh that wasn't eloquent at all, he'd get marks off if his speech therapist heard that.

"Alright prince, I'm Montag Morgason s–" he stops short of his overly dramatic greeting. Usually Monty introduced himself as Montag Morgason, son of Morga and Lutz, heir of the southern scourge. The title was a source of pride for him but revealing himself from the scourge so recklessly could spell disaster.

"It seems I'm not the only forgetful one" the prince jabs lightly, Monty's cheeks flush in embarrassment. It was probably embarrassment.

"I didn't forget! I am Montag Morgason, son of Morga and Lutz, so don't you forget it!" He stomps angrily to accentuate his point. He seems pleased with the statement before he suddenly backtracks. "Actually one more thing, don't call me Montag cause I only get called that when I'm in trouble, you can call me Monty" now he's done.

The prince is quiet for a while as he looks the kid up and down. He's dressed in the strangest clothing the prince had ever laid eyes on and for some reason he smeared charcoal under his eyes. He's obviously never been schooled a day in his life, he smells like campfire, and he acts like a wild animal. 

No civilized behavior whatsoever…

No no the prince assures himself he's just being paranoid. The boy's certainly strange and uneducated but he speaks English just fine, however brutally accented. The barbarians are supposed to be bigger than people but the boy stood at least an inch shorter than the prince.

His face wasn't burned, just...just smudged with charcoal.

Yes he's being paranoid, this kid was weird but he had a hunch he could be helpful.

"So Monty...can you use that sword?" The prince asked suddenly. Monty didn't hear anything after his name, it sounded so different in Prince's dialect. The smoother accent made it sound almost regal, and he liked the sound.

"What?"

"Your wooden toy there, are you a swordsman?" The Prince tried again. Monty nodded his head vigorously.

"Yeah I am! I could've kicked those guard's butts if I'd really been trying, but I wasn't so…" he finishes nonchalantly, the Prince hums again in thought.

"Have you ever been a soldier of fortune?" He asks, wiggling his eyebrows in a conspiratory manner. Montag scoffs outright.

"Was that your accent or are you just speaking in tongues?" He spits, obviously annoyed. The prince tries to rephrase without asking outright.

"You know, do you work in the business of... compensated violence?" His tone hints again at an unasked question but Monty seems to be refusing to take the hint.

"Speak English, Princey!" He snaps and the prince practically fumes, finally he grabs the uncouth boy by the arm and leads him to the garden where they won't be overheard.

When he's sure they're alone he turns around and whispers swiftly to his captive.

"I want you to beat someone up, you meathead" he hisses. 

Monty leans back, a very long "ohhhhhhhhhhh" escaping him at the explanation. "Yeah sure that'll kill a few minutes, who?" He starts spinning around the garden as if a target is gonna appear out of the topiaries.

"What wait you don't wanna hear the reward first?" The prince gawks. Monty brightens immediately, smiling like the sun and bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Oh I get stuff? If I do a good job I get presents!?" He seems suddenly much less annoyed and much more like an eager puppy. The prince has to suppress another smile at his enthusiasm.

"I'll give you a coin reward if you can scare a kid for me. Make sure they learn their lesson." He affirms and Monty bounces even harder, stomping his feet like an excited rabbit.

"Oh yes I'm gonna scare that guy crazy! Where are they? lemme at em"

He draws his sword so hard he almost pulls himself to the ground, looking for the life of him like a horse waiting to be let out of a stable.

"Come with me" the prince says simply, leading the insatiable ball of energy behind him. He takes Monty to the cherry tree, having to simultaneously watch over the wall and answer Monty's arsenal of questions.

"What do I get?"

"What do you want?"

"Your shiney hat looks nice"

"You can't have my crown"

"But I need to trade it for a cape"

"Why don't you just buy it?"

"What's 'buy'?"

"Like with money, I can give you money"

They sit in the tree for at least an hour, but Monty never slows for an instant. He tells the prince all about the cool cape he saw that's way cooler than his mousy old cloak. He told the prince about how his village uses trading and he doesn't know what this 'money' is or what to do with it.

The prince finds Monty's sudden gushing over normal civilized things to be super endearing and finds himself offering to handsomely overpay the boy.

"I'll give you three gold coins"

"Only three?"

"Yes, three's a lot though" the prince explains and Monty shakes his head slowly. The prince grasps for a way to explain the value of his offer. "You see your sword?" He takes the wooden tool for a brief moment.

"Careful it's my only one"

"Well I'd say it's probably worth 5 copper coins." He appraises, Monty takes the sword back not knowing if it's good or bad. "One silver coin is worth one hundred copper coins," he explains next. Monty squints at the sword again.

"How many swords is that?" He asks.

"Twenty" the prince calculates easily, his tutors make sure his math is sharp.

"Ok so one silver coin can 'buy' twenty swords." Monty says.

"Good job" the prince nods and Monty seems to get a little too excited at the praise. "One gold coin is worth one hundred silver ones," he says quietly. 

Monty drops his sword.

"Wait, wait, one of the gold ones is...a hundred...how many swords..?" He seems unable to form complete thoughts on the revelation, the prince sits for a moment enjoying the novelty. How cute it is to see someone's mind blown at the concept of money, how nice to be able to pay him so much. Finally he decides to add one more revelation to the pile.

"That's two thousand swords by the way"

Monty almost falls out of the tree.

"And you're going to give me three?" He's almost whispering he's in such disbelief. The prince nods and Monty does something no stranger, or child for that matter, has ever done to the prince. Monty wraps his arms around the boy's middle and hugs the Crown Prince of Gaoth. The prince is shocked for a moment, it's certainly sudden but doesn't feel threatening or intentionally disrespectful.

It's kinda nice.

"You...are...my best friend" Monty shakes the boy around in his grasp as he talks. The prince laughs a bit and rests his arms awkwardly on the other boys shoulders. 

His best friend, the prince had always wanted a best friend. If he'd known he could just buy one he'd have done it ages ago. 

Movement over the wall catches his eye and he shakes Monty out of his near-reverent blubbering.

"There, that's them!" The prince points to a small kid, their scrawny face only made scrawnier by their wide frizzy hair.

"That shrimp? Piece of cake" he shrugs, preparing to jump down from the tree. The prince stops him by his sleeve.

"No, not them, that's O'grant." He points back out into the streets. Now Monty sees the much larger girl approaching. She catches the kid in a dead end and corners them, shoving their face to the ground and making them eat bits of the cobble pavement.

"Her"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay they finally met! And they're both learning so much, I'm so proud.
> 
> Today's assignment: How do you think Monty's gonna do in this fight?


	4. Monty Promoted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting both these at the same time.
> 
> Why?
> 
> Shhhh

"Her" the prince says with venom. "Make sure she knows she can't get away with picking on people smaller than her" but when the prince turns to face Monty he's already gone.

Whipping his head back around to stare at the scene, he sees a very familiar fur cloak making his way through the streets towards them.

He gets there a little too quickly in his excitement, sword drawn and ready to fight. There are a few words spoken that the prince can't hear as Monty taunts the girl away from the victim, then it's...well it's a show.

Monty's quite a bit smaller than the girl but he fights her like a rabid badger. Before he's done anything he yells so loud the prince can actually hear it from where he's sitting. Monty has none of the tact or structure of practiced combat. He comes at her with fists and teeth and when his sword is taken he just starts throwing rocks and yelling.

When he's thrown down he uses the ground for leverage, launching at her and straight-up biting her like a street dog. After only a few minutes of his Tasmanian devil destruction, the girl flees the alley, gripping a broken nose.

Monty stands and retrieves his sword, breathing heavily. He turns slightly to look at the kid the girl was attacking and they understandably press themself against the wall of the alley in pure terror. Monty shrugs at them and starts heading back.

Well dang.

That was not what the prince had expected out of a kid who said he could use a sword. He was very good with the sword obviously but just the willing disregard for all human limitation or decorum was wild to watch. He was wild.

Barbaric, some would say.

The prince jumps when the tree shakes, jolting from the kid climbing back into it with the brightest smile on his scuffed face.

"Gimme my money!" Monty stretches his hand out for his reward.

The prince stares dumb-founded for a moment, looking awkwardly from the boy beside him to the street and back. Finally Monty gets impatient, snapping his fingers and making an annoyed 'ahem' sound.

"Right, yes, your reward" the prince stumbles, coming back to the present and moving to climb down the tree.

"Where are you going?!" Monty yells, jumping down after him. 

"I don't have any coins with me, I have to get them from the treasury." The prince explained. Monty was getting a bit tired of hearing words he didn't know and he was about ready to stab if he didn't get his money.

"Why don't you just have it? What if you wanted to 'buy' something?" The angry kid presses as he walks beside his royal friend.

"I don't need to buy anything, I just have everything. And it doesn't matter if I did want to make a purchase cause I'm not allowed" the prince explains.

"I thought you could do whatever you want?"

"Nah, I'm just allowed to make you do whatever I want" the prince answers cheekily. Monty actually growls at the statement. 

"I won't do anything if I don't get my money!" He declares, stomping angrily.

The prince doesn't answer, he just let's the kid stomp and grumble as they make their way into the palace.

0

"See, three" the prince counts three gold coins into Monty's outstretched palm. The kid went from angry to awed at light speed when he saw the absolute piles of gold coins sitting in the treasury. The prince actually made him wait outside for fear he'd pocket some.

As they make their way out the treasurer nods politely. Casting a strange look at the wild looking child marveling at his gold, but saying nothing for fear of upsetting the kids young, royal chaperone.

Monty is completely fixed on the shiney yellow appearance of his prize, but on the way in his eyes were everywhere. 

The castle was stone from the outside, but the inside was furnished with lush blue carpets and cut marble walls. Pillars of glittering polished material held the impossibly high ceilings aloft. Monty looked in wonder at the halls large enough to fit his house, before immediately deciding the only option was to run around in such a cavernous space.

The prince didn't get mad when the kid almost knocked over a maid or toppled some priceless suit of armor. Monty just seemed to be having so much fun, and the prince had always thought of the halls as cold and empty. Monty brought life to them with his reckless little boy energy.

Oh wait, the price was a young boy too was he not?

Best not to dwell on the difference.

When they found their way back out to the garden Monty was running again. Dragging the poor prince by the hand as he sprinted towards the gate. The prince almost tore his afternoon shoes digging his heels into the ground to stop the ceaseless child.

"I can't leave, I told you that"

"Can't leave...the garden?" Monty huffed a bit from running but mostly he just seemed incredulous. Head tilting far to the side like a curious puppy.

"'taint a prince's place..." he explained shortly, also out of breath from the sprint.

"Well so?" Monty shrugs, turning back around to keep going.

"No no!" The prince grabs his friend's cloak desperately to stop his departure. He just met this friend, he couldn't let him leave so soon. Something pops and the cloak falls from the kids shoulders, he grabs it quickly.

"Hey!" His yell is indignant but also fearful. He wraps it back around him, quickly refastening the curious bug-shaped fastener. 

"I can't go, it's not safe out there" the prince tries to explain himself another way. This seems to stop his brash friend.

"Not safe?" He scoffs

"You probably don't know but...I'm like really important" the prince starts, Monty rolls his eyes so hard he reads his own thoughts. "No really! I'm like a big deal and if I leave there's some really messed up people who might come after me" he fumbles the words out while Monty anxiously fiddles with his pin.

"Who told you that muck?" Monty grumbles under his breath, seemingly more embarrassed than anything else.

"My father...and all my tutors...my nanny" the prince starts listing examples quietly, Monty doesn't respond for a while.

"So you've never been in your own village?" Monty finally looks up from his cloak, the prince just shakes his head. "And you'll get like...attacked if you leave?"

"Worse probably, ransomed in the best case" the prince toes at the dirt lightly, feeling a bit on the embarrassed side himself.

"What's 'ransom'?"

"Uh…" the prince didn't have a very firm grasp on the word either but he heard his nanny use it as an example and he looked it up in the dictionary once a few months prior. "Like...when someone kidnaps you and then asks for money to give you back"

Monty actually laughs at the explanation.

"Giving up money for a kid? My mama would probably pay for me to go away" he rolls his eyes. The prince doesn't understand, the words Monty said we're incredibly sad but the way he said them was like he found them funny. 

"Well that's the good option of what could happen"

"Ok...look princy I think I can help you out" Monty makes his voice airy like he's whispering but he doesn't actually get any quieter. "You wanna leave?"

"I…" the prince looks through the gate, so tantalizingly close. What could possibly be out in the country he was to rule? "Yeah, I do"

"Well you give me a few more of these golds and I'll follow you around, y'know so you don't get ransod or something." He declares. The prince's gaze shoots from the gate to the boy in a heartbeat.

"Like a guard!" He exclaims, how had he not thought of that? But Monty shakes his head furiously. 

"No! Guards are evil, they'll kill you if you fall asleep on the hunt. No I'm more like uh...what I did to that mean girl only for anyone who messes with you." 

What was he going on about?

The prince doesn't think Monty actually knows what a guard is, but he's too excited to argue. He could pay Monty to keep him safe and that way he could leave. He could leave, that really was the bottom line.

"Alright not a guard, how about a knight?" The prince tries a different word, maybe one Monty will be comfortable with. 

Monty furrows his eyebrows and the prince already knows why.

"You don't know what a knight is?"

"I know it's... someone who serves a king" Monty guesses hesitantly, he was kinda right?

"A knight is...a really brave swordsman. They protect the royals" Monty didn't hear anything after 'brave swordsman'.

"Oh yeah! That's it, I'm a night definitely" 

"Ok!" The prince feels like flying at the arrangement, he has a friend and he can leave the castle on the same day. His birthday! "I'd knight you for real but I don't have a sword."

"What about mine?" Monty pats his trusty wooden sword, but the prince just giggles.

"No it's gotta be a special sword, it's alright though let's go" finally the impatience won and the prince was dragging Monty for a change. The guards at the gate shouted after the prince but he didn't look back.

Everything was wonderful. The tiny houses compared to the palace, the cracked cobble streets, the rats the size of cats skittering across the alleys. The prince saw everything through rose lenses. Monty was notably less impressed, not subtly leading his excited friend toward the market.

Monty only took a moment to spot the vendor that turned him away. With the prince himself in tow Monty marched right up to confront the vendor.

"Oh, you again, go g–" they begin with a harsh greeting but their words die on the sight of the boy's company. "Y–your highness?"

The prince's eyes widen that someone recognized him, he's touched. He'd never been outside the palace and still his people know his face? Yet the vendor isn't happy to see their young sovereign.

"We're closed, go" they quickly start ushering the boys out, all the fuzzy emotions the prince had felt immediately fall sour.

"Hey no!" Monty protests, "I still wanna buy my cape!" The vendor doesn't relent. Finally the vendor's swift dismissal screeches to a halt when Monty produces three gold coins from his belt.

"Kid where…"

"See I have the money, give me my cape it's mine!" He demands. The vendor looks wildly and nervously from the kid to the coat to the prince and back.

"Fine" they retrieve the cape in record speed and give it to the demanding kid, swiping the coins from his hand and shoving him away. Both boys stand outside the closed kiosk for a moment. 

"Yesss" Monty relishes in his new cape as he strips his old mousy one and discards it in an unceremonious pile in the dust. He pins his broach to the new one and twirls around without a care. The rich fabric is too long for his small stature and it brushes the ground, but he doesn't seem to care at all.

The prince looks at the cape, feeling a bit detached. It is a nice cape but one glance will tell you Monty severely overpaid for it. 

That, however, wasn't what was on the boy's mind.

He'd been happy that the vendor knew him, but he wasn't sure he wanted people to recognize him if they were gonna get scared like that. How had they even known? He'd surely never met them before.

"Well?" Monty pulled the prince out of his own head as he strutted around. Striking ridiculous poses and awaiting praise. The prince just watched him for a moment, he'd be damned if he wasn't charmed by the kid.

"Red looks really good on you" he responds at length. Monty stops mid-stride, seemingly surprised by the sincerity of the compliment. 

"Pfff yeah I look good in everything" he responds, face very red but acting 'cool'. "But uh...I'll totally wear red if you like it so much...cause I'm nice" he shrugs, trying and very much failing to seem nonchalant.

The prince doesn't respond, back in his thoughts. Monty looks at him for a few seconds more before practically yelling "hey why are you sad?" The prince jumps before shrugging.

Monty looks at the kid and how he's slumped, eyes being drawn back to the closed kiosk. Oh it was the vendor and their rudeness. Monty would show them for making his best friend sad. Without another word he starts kicking the structure. Alarm bells ring in the princes head before he really sees what his dumb companion is doing.

"Hey! Monty knock it off unless you wanna pay for damages." Monty stops immediately.

"But they were mean to you" he defends his actions weakly.

"No no I just...I'm wondering about how they knew me that's all." The prince sighs. Monty puts his fists on his hips and looks the prince up and down.

"Well the hat's hard to miss" he muses. The prince's hand flies up to his hair, resting on the golden crest he'd worn for so long. So long he'd forgotten it was there for a moment.

"Of course!" He exclaims, pulling the ornament from his head. "My crown, I completely forgot." He holds it in his hands, turning it this way and that. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Monty blatantly staring at it. Wonder and naked envy playing on his features. "Hey you have some pockets, think you can hold onto this while we walk?" He asks.

Monty needs a broom and dustpan to collect his jaw from the floor.

"You want me to just...hold onto it?" He asks.

"Yeah?" The prince doesn't really see the big deal.

"Yeah! Give it!" Monty snatches the golden crown from the prince's hand so fast the prince is momentarily frightened he'd run off with it. He doesn't, simply turns it over and over in his hands. "If I had something this pretty I wouldn't hand it over to anyone" he mumbles. Little fingers tracing the hand-forged grooves in the soft metal.

"Well it's just until we head back." The prince clarifies. "If you like it so much I'll let you hold it some other time too" he never considered the crown to be too special, it's not as big or fancy as his dad's. He supposed it's probably pretty amazing to Monty though, a kid so transfixed by gold. Monty smiles at the gesture.

"I'd like that," he responds, still staring at the crown and uncharacteristically calm. 

With a final glance he stashes the royal symbol under his newly purchased cape. He watches as the prince takes his old fur cloak from where Monty discarded it and wraps it around his narrower shoulders. The prince notices the stare and feels the need to defend himself.

"It's...to hide my clothes." He explains sheepishly. Monty had to admit the prince was dressed pretty weird, the only one he'd seen wear purple like that. He accepts the explanation, someone may as well get some use out of that old cloak. Feeling bold in his nice new red cape he offers an arm to the prince like a proper goddamn gentleman. The prince gives him an amused smirk before he takes it.

"Where to?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He got his cape, as a kid it almost seems like he deserves nice things :)
> 
> Today's assignment: what do you think Monty's deal with guards is?


	5. One More Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to ask me questions if anything confuses you, they're fun. Here have a longer chapter cause I like you and I'm bad at condensing.

Monty had met some strange people but none so strange as prince. 

The kid had everything Monty had ever wanted. Everyone did what he said and he never had to work for anything. He lived in the biggest house with the shiniest stuff and the funnest chores. That's right even his _chores_ were better than Monty's. 

Princy complained about things like art and music classes, horseback riding, archery, all kinds of cool stuff. Of course there were some things that were boring like language and arithmetic, but he never had to clean.

No the kid was definitely the weirdest friend Monty had ever made, and the weirdest thing was how he thought everything _else_ was weird. Monty followed Princy around for at least a few hours while the guy ran up and down the streets. 

Where Monty marveled at how big the buildings were, Princy cooed over how small they were. Where Monty thought the city was grand and shiny, Prince considered it quaint and colorful. Where Monty wanted to explore the wealthy upper rings with the fine carriages and fancy people, prince only ventured into the darkened alleys or natural alcoves and parks.

Everywhere they went the people seemed to be celebrating something, and though Prince took part in some of the festivities he mostly stayed away. Nervously wrapping Monty's old cloak around his clothes and pulling Monty away from the energy of the crowds.

Oh such wonderful, addictive energy. What were they celebrating like this for? Monty almost didn't care, he just wanted to join. To get lost in the people and the crowds and the music, but he had a job to finish.

By the end they must've walked for miles, at least miles in the minds of two young boys feasting on adventure for the first time. Monty escorted the prince safely back to the castle walls and demanded his payment, waiting as patiently as a kid can for the young noble to return with his gold.

He wasn't nervous he'd be tricked, he wasn't worried princy wouldn't return. They were friends and that's all there was to it, no matter how weird the kid was. Monty's trust payed off when the boy trotted back from the gates, a small drawstring bag in hand. 

"Monty, here" he called when he finally came to a stop in front of his friend. Out of breath but bearing the most blinding smile. "It's ten…ten gold coins for the greatest day of my life" he put the coin purse in Monty's hand, but he didn't even look at it. He just kept his beaming face on his new friend, his first friend. Monty felt his chest expand and the reward, both rewards.

"Ten?" He was almost in disbelief again, last time he only got three.

"Mhm, I never would've gotten the nerve to leave without you. This is officially the best birthday ever!" And he hugged the poor unprepared wild boy a little too tight around the waist. "Oh sorry was that too forward?" He stepped back almost immediately in apology. "I don't hug a lot"

"It's your birthday?" Monty was not super concerned about the hug, far more focused on the other thing. "My birthday was _yesterday,"_ he emphasized.

"Uh yeah you only mentioned it a dozen times already" the prince laughed lightly. 

Oh.

"Well yeah cause it's a big deal" he huffed, only slightly embarrassed. He looked at his coin bag and tossed it between his hands. The sun was going down and he knew he'd have to go home soon. Mama would have his head if he _never_ went home, but he was starting to never want to. The city was so wonderful and he did whatever he wanted all day.

But he had nowhere to sleep and he had nothing to eat. Loathe he was to admit it but...he was starting to miss his parents.

"Happy belated birthday by the way" the prince interrupted Monty's thoughts. "I really gotta get inside though, I have to cut the cake."

"Yeah I should probably go home…" Monty responded sullenly, not looking up from his coin bag. 

"Where do you live anyway?" The prince asked suddenly. Where could such a wild child have come from? The downtown area? Maybe the fields beyond the wall?

"Uh...ah...a village" Monty answered carefully, but still the prince's eyebrows shot up.

"Like...the settlements?" The prince clarified. The Gaothic settlements were quite a bit farther than he'd guessed the kid was from, how far had he walked to get here? Was it safe to go back in the dark?

"No no…" Monty shook his head and the prince sighed in relief. "Like...a village on the steep, past the trees?" He didn't wanna get too specific, but he could still see the prince was shaken by the statement.

"That...that far?" He asked, voice quivering a bit. "Have you…" have you ever met the barbarians? The scourge? Are they dangerous? 

"Have I what?"

"Have...are you…" the prince held his questions, they didn't matter and he didn't wanna frighten the kid, what if he didn't even know about the scourge? He didn't want to make him feel like his home wasn't safe. "Do you...think it's safe to travel that far in the dark?" He finally decided.

Monty cast his gaze to the sky again as the sun set more rapidly over the plains. The tangerine glow streaked across the buildings in the distance, only cresting the very top of the wall now and casting the two boys in shadow.

"Uh...I...I can handle anything that's out there" Monty's brave face was tragically easy to see through, his voice shook and his eyes darted around the serine courtyard. The prince thought for a moment.

"Well even if you are a super brave and heroic knight, it's gonna be too cold to go anywhere." Monty sagged in relief the moment the words were out.

"Oh yeah waaaay too cold I shouldn't…" but then be stopped, face pulling into a frown "but I don't have anywhere to stay tonight." He admitted bitterly. That was a problem. 

The prince tried to picture how far a walk it would be to the mysterious village. He knew it was a long time to get to the edge of the kingdom on horseback, he knew it was a long walk just to wander the kingdom for a few hours. There's no way Monty made it all the way here in one day.

"Where did you sleep last night?" He asked, Monty seemed to actually stretch his brain in thought.

"I didn't, I walked at night and slept in the field this morning." He recalled. The prince gawked outright, he couldn't imagine sleeping in a _field._

"That's awful!" 

"No it was awesome!" Monty grinned. "It's so warm around here and the grass is softer. There aren't any trees either so there's nowhere for boar's or cougars to hide and gobble you." He rattled off all the perks, but the prince just remained baffled.

"Well if it was that fun why can't you just do it again?" The prince asked, perplexed. Monty cringes at the thought.

"Cause it's dark now so it's dangerous, and you said it's colder at night...and I don't wanna walk all the way to the field cause I walked all day today and yesterday." He was mumbling by the end but his points were solid. The prince looked around, could he offer a guest room?

NO

He didn't know why but sudden dread filled him, he couldn't let Monty be found in the castle. Not tonight.

Shaking his head he came back to the world. He was far from surprised by this feeling, he'd experienced it many times in his life. His arcane studies tutor told him he had a talent for premonition magic, but to him it had always just been another class to take. 

So if not the palace, where?

"Oooh do you have any blankets?" Monty's voice pulled the prince's attention. 

"Yes?" 

"Good cause your garden's nice and it looks safe" Monty jogged through the topiaries to the more secluded areas of the courtyard. Walking around the cherry tree and toeing at the soft grass.

"You want to sleep in the garden?" The prince was once again thrown, but the boy just nodded. 

"Yeah this is like, premium napping stuff" he flopped into the soft, ground-creeping ivy along the edges of the pumpkin patch. Stretching out and sighing in satisfaction. The prince watched for a good while while the kid seemed perfectly content to rest amongst the vegetation.

Absolutely uncivilized, like a barbarian.

He was really getting annoyed that that thought kept creeping in. Monty was _not_ a barbarian or a member of the scourge, he was just a kid who's different. Who's to say that's not how everyone does things in his village? Who's to say the prince isn't the barbaric one for sleeping in...a bed.

His rationalizations were disjointed but he refused to believe his friend was evil. He flat out wouldn't. Sleeping in the garden isn't barbarian stuff and the prince would prove it.

He'd...he'd lay down too.

Lowering to his knees beside his horizontal friend he patted the leaves lightly. It wasn't so bad, he just had to lay down and…

Oh...what if it's cold? What if he gets dirt on his clothes? What if there's ants or beetles or _spiders??_ Pulling his hands away he almost stands back up, but he doesn't. Monty is craning his head up, looking curiously at the prince's actions.

Monty wasn't getting bugs on him, and so what if there's dirt? That's what the laundry people are for. And who cares if it's cold? He'll be warm when he gets up again.

He lowers himself farther, repeating his rationalizations in his head for courage. Bugs weren't so bad anyway, they were...normal. His stomach lurches as he falls to the ground, final thoughts and regrets rushing him. Then as fast as they're there they're gone.

He's on his back, the soft leaves cushion him and Monty's old cloak keeps out the cold. His hair splays out over the ground and his recently recovered crown slips off, rolling and bouncing along the grass. He doesn't even look to see where it stops, all he looks at and all he can see are the stars.

They stretch endlessly into the sky, the tiniest luminescent fish in an endless inky ocean. A thousand lightning bugs flitting across an ancient forest. The lightest flecks of gold in the darkest expanse of canvas. No description is apt enough, nothing compares.

He feels the breeze move the leaves around him, the clothes against him, the very breaths he takes. He hears the rustling and the chirping and the pounding. A bed gives way when you lay on it but the ground is solid, steady. The walls of the castle are quiet around him but out here in the open air they don't keep the bugs or the birds at bay. They don't keep the sound from him. How can a place be so incredibly loud and so impossibly quiet?

It's such an out of body feeling, to have never seen the outside world from a laying down perspective. The two didn't feel like they should go together and yet, they do. They melt into each other in the greatest storm of comfort and freedom. Of excitement and boredom.

Perfect.

"You sleeping here too, Princy?" It seems Monty is incapable of silence for longer than thirty seconds, and the prince isn't even mad. He's here with a friend and it makes the perfection all the sweeter. Incredible to think Monty _lives_ like this.

"Yeah"

0

The prince goes in for blankets and doesn't return for a while. Monty wasn't nervous he'd be tricked, he wasn't worried princy wouldn't return. He just waited for his friend and counted his ten gold coins over and over. He waited and he tried to sleep and he trusted the prince would be back. And that's all there was to it.

The prince was held up by questions. Where have you been all day? Why are you leaving so soon? Why do you need that? You're going to do _what_ outside?

He ended up having to stay for the party at least. He tried to tell them he was going to sleep outside, but they still escorted him to his bedroom. Like they hadn't heard him. He was used to the treatment, but he'd have to do something he wasn't used to to get around it.

For the first time in the prince's life he snuck out. 

Taking the blankets from his bed he left without telling anyone, meeting an already sleeping Monty in the garden. He covered them in the blankets and laid down to finally sleep after such a long long day.

Yet sleep eluded him as he watched the stars in the sky for as long as he liked. When he wasn't transfixed by their shine he watched the other brightest thing in the garden that night.

Monty slept with a little grin on his face, his bag of coins clutched tightly. The prince had noticed much about his friend while they walked, the thing he noticed most was that he didn't seem to have much. It made the prince feel incredibly fuzzy to give him stuff. Stuff he never wanted and never thought someone else would, but he could see how obviously it meant a lot to Monty.

He watched his friend sleep happily with the gifts the prince had given him, and fell asleep in time. 

The morning saw Monty's departure, but not before they were woken by the distressed scream of the gardener.

Word spread too quickly throughout the castle. A break in, a scandal, a stranger in the castle walls. Nevermind the stranger was seven, and the prince was there too. Still the rumors flew and the king caught wind of what had happened.

That's the thing the prince hates most about premonitions. They don't tell you what could happen, they tell you what _will_ happen. The king would not be pleased, especially with how the rumor would evolve by the time he heard it. The prince would have a lot to answer to, and the relationship between him and his father would evolve from tentatively positive to poisoningly overbearing.

But this is all to come, not for this chapter of our story.

This small slice of the world two boys found together in companionship is a section that must come to an end. Eventually Monty must return to the scourge and face his mother. A lot of parental figures must be scorned in the name of adventure it seems.

The prince and Monty sneak around to avoid the gossiping maids and prowling caretakers. Luckily the castle is riddled with hidden passages and alcoves, and the prince had every step memorized.

"What are all these even for?" Monty asked after the fifth false painting revealed a secret hall.

"What's a castle without secrets?" Was the prince's mischievous reply.

They took the catacombs to the edge of the castle walls, where the prince gave Monty eight silver coins for a horse. Monty was more than happy to take more money but the prince made him promise he'd use it to get home. 

So he promised.

Monty doesn't know what happened to the prince when he left, he just knew he had to get out of dodge. He knew the roads well enough from how much he'd explored the kingdom with the prince, but the people made him paranoid. He tried to tug his hood up over his face as he walked but found nothing there. He wasn't wearing his cloak but the bright crimson cape he'd bought the day before. 

The prince was still wearing his cloak.

Shaking his head he kept walking, he wouldn't miss the stupid thing and his was way cooler.

Finally he reached the stables and found no one home. No one to talk to and only two horses visible. One tired looking mare with spots like a cow and one sturdy looking filly.

The filly was such a curious animal to Monty, a pure white coat and dark eyes. He waved at it and it charged at him all the way to the edge of it's pen, scaring Monty so hard he fell back into the gravel. Monty stuck his tongue out at it and it pulled it's lips away from its teeth, making a whining sound eerily resembling mocking laughter.

He'll take this one please.

Leaving the coins on the fence post he kept moving. Surely that's how buying a horse works. All he knew is he was in a hurry, the longer he made his mama wait the worse he was in for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The horse (Bianca) was added on a whim but she's my favorite character now.
> 
> Today's assignment: You think Monty will be grounded for the rest of eternity? 😬


	6. Consequences?

The boy had been gone for two nights and almost two days. When Morga woke to find her son gone she first thought Lutz had done something with him. Useless man always pulling the brat away from his chores. 

But Lutz wasn't aware of the absence.

Morga was beyond furious to discover her son had actually  _ succeeded  _ in sneaking out for once. Furious with Lutz for letting the boy shirk his morning chores the day before, furious with herself for sleeping so soundly as to let the whelp slip out under her nose. Furious with Jægar for just letting him go, there's no way her sharp companion hadn't noticed the boy.

The only one she wasn't furious with was Montag.

The kid actually got out, snuck right past the most vigilant hunter and tracker in the south. It took guts, took skill, and beyond all that. He stole from her. 

Right from off her own clothes he took her bone-carved beetle crest. The symbol of the village. Of all the things he left behind he took a symbol of where he was from, and looted it right off his mother like a corpse. It showed cunning, and it didn't make her angry. It made her so very proud.

But she couldn't say that to the kid, his head was big enough as it was.

With smug decision she waited for his return, the kid wouldn't get far and wouldn't last long before coming back. Feet aching and belly empty.

She waited for a long time, tending to the village and keeping her eyes on the trees. Many of the more dangerous beasts were out of hibernation this time of summer, but they don't dare come near the village. Monty couldn't have gone far enough to be in danger, the kid wasn't even old enough for a proper weapon.

It had been a long time though.

When the sun sat again Morga found irritation settling in. Did the brat really think he could get out of his chores and lessons by playing hide and seek? His crafty escape was endearing at first but now it only encumbered the welfare of the tribe. Morga had things to do, she couldn't be half worrying about her idiot kid all day.

The night fell cold, far below freezing, and loath she was to admit it but irritation turned quickly to fear. A boy wouldn't survive the frozen night, not one his size. She knew Lutz had taken the time to teach him tricks to outlast such temperatures but the chances of the flighty child actually absorbing such useful information were slim to none.

Fine, she'll look for him.

Sleep was left in the village as Morga and a few volunteers searched the woods. They searched half the night before the volunteers turned back, assuming the worst as was custom. Morga didn't follow custom and opted to search the woods again and again. Surely there was some rock she hadn't looked under, some tree she hadn't climbed.

If she didn't find a corpse she should at least find parts of one.

It wasn't the sun peaking once again over the horizon that stopped her, nothing could make Morga Eirsdottier  _ quit.  _ What stopped her was a thought of her own. 

Obviously she was getting nowhere, she should've found something but she hadn't. Obviously Monty must've gotten farther than she originally thought. She shouldn't be searching for him.

She should be tracking him.

Not to say she hadn't noticed a trail before, but it doubled back over itself and pretzeled so many times she just assumed it didn't leave the trees. Under the new methodology she set about unraveling the sporadic travelling the boy had done.

She growled outright when it led her onto the steppe.

Sending Jæger to scout ahead she began her brutal pursuit. The brat had actually dared to run away so far. Hell help him if he got himself in trouble or died or something. Kid's not allowed to die without her permission.

Though her anger burned high enough to drive her for months, it seemed she'd only trailed her son for a half hour before Jæger called to her in the distance. In the foggy plains she could make out a shape much too large to be a seven year old moving towards her. Jæger swooped recklessly but not threateningly around them. 

What?

Little bits became clearer as Morga drew quickly closer. The size and odd lumbering gait was explained by the white pony, the bright crimson color became a coat at a nearer glance. Finally Jæger returned to Morga's shoulder as the equine came to an unpracticed stop in front of her. She knew her face must be menacing from Montag's pale complexion and fearful gaze at the ground.

0

Monty didn't know what he expected, but it definitely wasn't...well he expected to get punished.

He expected papa to yell and talk and lecture until he was blue in the face. He expected mama to grumble and growl and maybe give him a slap or ground him. He expected his punishment but he didn't expect it to be reversed. 

Mama didn't shut up for a solid two days over his recklessness. She yelled about how long he was gone and all he'd missed in the village and how long she'd looked for him. Sometimes it didn't even seem like she was angry at Monty, but at what Monty did. She ranted endlessly about the incomprehensibly useless red cape and the awful influence of kingdoms in general. Yet ultimately mama didn't punish him, didn't even take her pin back. Under all her ranting and blaming there was a sense of begrudging respect for what Monty had done. Sneaking out, making his own way, and returning all by his own means. No she didn't punish Monty but that didn't stop her from yelling about it.

Papa...papa punished him. He took Monty's money that he'd brought back, said it was too much for him to handle. Monty didn't know what papa did with it and he didn't care, he was just angry. He'd earned it, he should keep it! Still the village was better for it, medicines from plants not grown in the south magically appeared to heal the tribe's ailments. Tools unforgeable by southern technology suddenly appeared to help the prep for colder months.

Papa didn't speak to Monty or even look at him. Like he was too disappointed or hurt to bring himself to. Where Morga had searched endlessly to satiate her worry, Lutz had done what everyone else in the village had done. He gave up, he thought his son was dead

Neither mama nor papa knew or cared what to do with the horse. They almost resolved to butcher her for meat but Monty actually begged them not to. They couldn't in good conscience after Monty affectionately named the animal Bianca. They left her to her own devices and she did surprisingly well. One would expect a city horse to keel over in the harsh southern environment, but Bianca took to it like a fish to water. She ate so much vegetation from the woods the rabbits were showing ribs. She wandered the tribe aimlessly and villagers just awkwardly let her do her own thing. 

Monty often snuck her roots and oats, riding her around and threatening younger kids with his wooden sword. Pretending he was a  _ real _ Knight. 

A real Knight like Prince had told him about.

Monty spoke often of Princy, 'often' in this context meaning 'anytime his mouth was open and not occupied by food'. He prattled on and on and  _ on  _ about the kid who could do anything he wanted. The kid who had piles and piles of the gold Monty had brought home. The kid who taught Monty all about the city and shiny stuff and being better than everyone else and beating people up for money.

Needless to say his parents didn't like Prince.

Still Monty talked about him like an idol worshipped in place of a god. Oh his amazement when his papa explained to him that 'Prince' was a title not a name. That 'Prince' meant in most contexts 'son of the _goddamn_ _King_ '. A lot about Princy's privileges made more sense after that. Monty certainly knew what a King was.

Monty talked about Gaoth too, drawing comparisons between the kingdom and the dinky village. No ears were left attached to those unfortunate enough to find themselves in the boy's proximity. Obviously he thought often of the place, and wished often to return. Obviously his parents said no to that.

So he snuck out again.

Not nearly as suddenly as the first time. Two weeks after his initial return from his far off kingdom he began plotting to leave again. Taking food when no one was looking and packing away cool things to show his friend  _ the  _ Prince.

He found his opening one brisk morning. The clan had been on unfriendly terms with a nearby village, there were suspicions of spies watching the clan. Mama went out early to scout and confirm this, taking Jæger with her. She demanded Monty join her after his morning chores for scouting lessons.

So he cleaned.

_ Scratch scratch scratch _

Twenty eight

_ Scratch scratch scratch _

Twenty nine

He checked twenty nine again, determined to get the tools clean on the first try. He had thirty three to do this time and he wouldn't have his window close on him.

_ Scratch scratch scratch _

Twenty nine

_ Scratch scratch scratch _

Thirty

_ Scratch scratch scratch _

_ Scratch scratch scratch _

Hmm

_Scratch scratch scratch_

Thirty one

_ Scratch scratch scratch _

Thirty two

_ Scratch scratch scratch... scratch _

Thirty three.

"I'm gonna go meet mama!" He didn't even wait to dry his hands before bolting from his yard. Grabbing his bag of carefully prepared items and running. Papa shouted some vague agreement as he left.

He tore through the village, head whipping this way and that in search of a familiar white freeloader. He practically drags the horse when he spots her, pulling her through the trees and away from the prying eyes.

Then he's off.

Off on the steppe again just him and Bianca. He can feel the excitement all the way in his toes. His Papa thinks he's with Mama and Mama thinks he's doing chores. He's on his way and nothing can stop him from visiting his own secret world again. It's like a dream and he doesn't plan to come back for a while. 

Bianca, neither a well trained nor willing filly, gives him hell on the way. It's nothing he isn't used to from coercing the damn animal around the village. She refuses to walk straight, stops wherever she fancies, sometimes tosses Monty to the ground just for the fun of it. She was the most infuriating thing in the world, but Monty was grateful for her speed. It was only early evening when he saw the towering walls of his kingdom over the horizon.

Though he'd only been there once, the sight of those walls felt like coming home.

0

The Prince saw a lot more of his father these days. 

The King spent nearly all hours of the day with his son by his side now. He took the boy everywhere, even the most boring of meetings, even when the prince missed his lessons. With a stranger spotted in the castle walls he simply wouldn't take chances.

The prince tried very hard to ignore the things his father said. He tuned out when father told him he was in danger. He tried very hard to un-hear the graphic stories of the Scourge's crimes. The many descriptions of the deceptions such creatures would use to gain trust.

Yes, Monty was a barbarian. Father made sure the prince knew it well.

Though he tried not to hear the frightening warnings his father smothered him in, it was hard when he had nothing else to listen to. He spoke to no one anymore, not even his nanny. He only spoke to his formerly estranged father, now unsettlingly close.

Despite his best efforts his memories of his feisty friend began to blur. They warped with the new thoughts he was being fed. He found it hard to picture Monty's blinding smile or awed gaze at his coins. He only saw the visions from the history books father made him study. Violent, bloody assassinations and raids depicted in ink burned behind his eyelids whenever he tried to sleep.

He couldn't ignore forever that he was becoming afraid.

So when he sat in the cherry tree he trembled. One of the few moments throughout the day he was without his chaperone. He watches the Dame weed the garden, he watches the O'grant child play happily in the streets with no bullies to harm him. He remembers with a shudder the ferocity with which the Monty had taken to his task. That memory was blurry too, warped into something bad though it was triumphant at the time.

He sat in his tree and jumped at small noises, thinking he sees a flash of red like blood among the cobble streets. 

He hadn't imagined it that time. 

There, remarkably and regrettably, a crimson clad boy on a small horse works his way through the city. The prince's heart quickens and suddenly breathing seems very difficult as he looks around wildly. What does he do? Does he tell his father? Does he make Monty leave for his own safety? Does he hide and pray for help? 

He wrestles for a while with his options before he jumps out of the tree. He has to intercept Monty before he reaches the palace walls. That kid was stupendously lucky to have shown up during the maybe two hours a day the prince was not being supervised. He couldn't leave the wall so he'd have to get Monty's attention some other way. 

0

Monty loved the smell of the city as he rode through it on his little horse. He loved the way the breeze was warm and the people were eccentric. He especially loved how much attention everyone was giving him. They stared at him all the way to the castle. He was about to demand the guards let him in again when something from the sky smacked Bianca right on the shoulder.

"Hey!" He hit the ground hard when Bianca threw him, rearing up at the assault and trotting about. Monty drew his sword and waved it threateningly at the sky. "Who did that? You attack  _ my  _ horse?? Get down here and fight me!" He yelled, voice squeaky from the volume. He almost didn't expect a response, but a familiar accented diction answered.

"Go away"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think of Gaoth? Harmless retreat from humdrum life? Or corrupting influence into humble country kids mind?
> 
> Leave me a comment of you're inclined.


End file.
